Sunday, 7 June 2009

A white dove lies broken They’ve taken her into the cave of cold machinesTomorrow the sky will open againTo receive herThere is an awakening a keenA fresh sense of things But no one’s here to feel it

I’ve gone up above the city to look and waitFor the rain to beginAnd there are these soundsThe black gnashing of a cloud againstThe cloud ceilingThe blind flapping of a wingAgainst the steelmesh netting of the cage